Fallen Light
by ikusen-no-yume
Summary: This story is based on a head cannon I saw in tumblr. Light has faded, night has fallen, and darkness has crept up on the sleeping damsel once more. But that's not the only thing that has fallen and crept up on her... Undertaker/OC


Undertaker started to feel his legs cramp up. Never in his entire life had he stayed so long in such a small place—his coffin back at the funeral shop was definitely a few decimeters bigger. He still wondered to himself how the woman sleeping about four meters under him was able to somehow lure him into her house, store him up in the ledge of her cove lights, and replace all the lights in her bedroom with his Shinigami silver-haired reaper started to stretch, to relieve the aching in his muscles. But apparently, he forgot where he actually WAS, and fell directly on the sleeping damsel on her bed.

He landed on her, with his face barely touching her sleeping façade. His arms and legs formed a cage around her, and he smirked as his long, thin fingers of his left hand twined around her wrists. The other hand was occupied with tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear so that he could see her face clearly. Through the light his eyes gave off, he was able to see how beautiful his captor actually was. His chest was pressed against hers, and through his robes, he was able to feel her ample bosom. Her body gave off a sweet, intoxicating fragrance, like that from a dark, sweet fruit. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to get a whiff of that delightful smell. He could smell pomegranate and vanilla dancing together to weave into one wonderful scent that emanated from the woman sleeping under him.

Suddenly, the woman's eyes fluttered open, partially because of the intense emerald green light that pierced through her eyelids moments before. She saw Undertaker and she opened her mouth to let out a scream, but Undertaker put a finger against her lips.

"Hmm…" Undertaker whispered, "You've been a very bad girl, to put me up in that extremely small place for such a long time. You must be such a sadist, for you to do such without a twinge of regret."

The girl opened her mouth to reply to the reaper's statement but was hushed by Undertaker's lips moving against hers. His tongue slid in her mouth and curled around her tongue. He parted from her lips and pressed his own against her ear.

"You do know that both of us cannot deny ourselves any longer; I can feel the lust burning through your skin. Besides, I do need some moving to make up for being in that small spot. And you, m'dear, deserve to be punished."

Undertaker tightened his grip around the lady's wrists and continued the revenge he had planned on.

The silver-haired Shinigami kissed the lady again, his tongue moving against her lips as he begged for entrance. A shock of pure pleasure coursed through the girl's body, and, overwhelmed by the sensation she felt, she gasped. Undertaker took advantage; he invaded her mouth, his tongue exploring and tasting the sweetness made available to him. Her body itself appealed to the reaper more than anything else, given that she was voluptuous and quite warm.

Undertaker let go of her wrists and placed his hands on the hem of her night shirt and ripped the garment off her body. He put his hands between her thighs and pried her long legs apart. He sat between her thighs and slowly ran his hands along her sides. His eyes followed his hands, making his gaze trail downwards. He stopped at the hem of her underwear, and smiled his Cheshire grin when he saw that _that_ was the only thing left on her. It thrilled him so much, to be near his captor. The playful thought of revenge flashed in his mind once more, and an all-knowing smile was all that was left of the wide grin he had moments ago.

The lady stared at the reaper for a while, thinking about what he could do to her next. She didn't want to fight back; she found him quite attractive despite his various scars from various incidents. She gazed at his long, silver hair, wishing to pull it when what was happening between them intensified. She wanted to kiss his lips again; all that attention he gave her wasn't enough to slake her hunger for the Shinigami in front of her.

Without warning, Undertaker's lips wrapped around one nipple in a heated kiss. All coherent thoughts fluttering around in her head suddenly disintegrated as his tongue rubbed against the bud, coaxing it into hardness.

He was able to squeeze a moan from her, and a triumphant grin curved on his face. His hand slid from her waist up toward her other, much ignored breast and groped it, squeezing and rubbing the hardened bud atop it till she moaned over and over again.

He liked her voice burning in pleasure and soon wanted to hear it reverberate from the ceiling, he realized, as his free hand trailed down the small triangle of cloth that was the only thing left on her body. He touched the outside, feeling its succulence. Through the thin fabric, Undertaker rubbed the soft, sensitive bundle of nerves with his finger and she quivered in ecstasy.

The reaper abruptly stopped pleasuring her with his lips and slid his other hand—the hand that pleasured her breast—to her underwear He placed his face in front of her clothed womanhood and grinned once more. He toyed with the garter for a while, smirking as she squirmed with anticipation evident in her eyes. A growl formed in the silver-haired Shinigami's throat, and a harsh purr of ripping fabric ensued.

His tongue licked the inside of her folds, searching for that sweet, sensitive spot he rubbed with his fingers earlier. He licked its tip slowly and dragged his tongue down to her wet slit. The woman he was pleasuring writhed in pleasure, and she whimpered, her tone obviously begging for sweet release.

The silver-haired reaper's assault on the poor woman was torturously slow; Undertaker was constantly touching her in such a way that it drove her to the brink, but not over the edge. His lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves and gave it a hard suck, causing liquid fire to pulse vigorously in her veins. She screamed out loud. It was her lurid, uninhibited scream that provoked him to continue until her eyes started to get misty.

Undertaker sat up and gazed at her longingly. He removed the scarf that slung around his shoulder and leaned over her, tying her wrists to the bedpost. He removed his robes soon after, and he sat astride before her, nearly naked and shining in the moonlight.

"U-undertaker, isn't it?" the girl piped up.

"Yes, m'dear?" the silver-haired reaper grinned, sitting back to look at her.

"Please, please untie me," she requested in a whisper

"And why would I ever do that, m'dear? You put me up in that awfully tight ledge, and now I've got you trussed up quite wonderfully. This is what you deserve, my dear. This is my revenge."

Undertaker proceeded to remove his undergarments. '_He's huge'_, the girl thought to herself as she watched him position himself outside her entrance. The reaper poked at her wet slit gently, hoping to tease her a bit more.

"…it's my first time," the girl whispered, her voice barely audible due to the fear and subdued anticipation lavishly cloaking it.

The reaper lifted his head and directed his eyes to hers. His attention shifted from the apex of her thighs to the piercing gaze she gave him. Her eyes showed a mix of being afraid and wanting to be listened to. He recalled the words she let go of in fright moments before. She was a virgin!

"Could you kindly tell me again, m'dear?"

The damsel took a deep breath and winced shortly. "…It's my first time," she continued. "I've never been ravished—I've never even been kissed. Sure, I had suitors, but all of them were repulsive and arrogant. I hated them. But despite that, father kept on setting me up with them. When father died, I cried—tears of joy, that is.

"Please, Undertaker. Please, please be gentle with me. You've taken almost every virtue of mine that a woman could have, well, except for a few that you most probably will take much later on. Please, my dear, silver-haired reaper. Please, please untie me."

"Oh my…" Undertaker exclaimed, a bit shocked by the information volunteered to him. His hand brushed against her cheeks softly and his thumb caressed her kiss-swollen lips. He bended over her quivering body and untied her. His deft hands quickly undid the knot in his scarf and threw it to some random corner of the room. The shinigami leaned in and gently stroked her face again, his touch feather-soft and quite endearing as he took in her luscious scent once more.

Suddenly, in a moment of boldness, the lady pulled on his hair and crushed his lips against hers for a kiss. Undertaker's eyes widened a bit at her actions, but eventually closed his eyes as his lips moved against hers in a heated wave of passion. His tongue found his way into her mouth and pushed against hers, proving that he couldn't control himself any longer.

The reaper pulled away and kneeled between her legs, his knees gently nudging her legs apart once more. He kissed her tenderly, slowly rubbing circles on her smooth stomach. He gazed into her eyes, making his intentions all clear. Then, he gripped onto her hips and pushed into her.

The damsel's eyes widened in pain as the silver-haired reaper ripped through her virginity, pushing himself deeper and deeper into a part of hers that she barely knew. Undertaker stilled himself for a while as she adjusted to his girth, his hand softly wiping the tears that spilled out from her eyes as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. She had calmed down a little, and he started to ease himself deeper into her, groaning at the tightness of her hot flesh. He kissed her lips again, a quick, deep outburst of desire.

He started thrusting into her, a fluid rhythm that quickened in pace. The damsel held on to Undertaker's forearms and moaned softly, her mouth forming an _O_ of pleasure as he buried himself deeper within her, her walls tightening around him. The reaper's hands crept to her breasts and stroked them, only adding fuel to her flaming desire. He tore into her with a ferocity even he did not know of. The girl, meanwhile, writhed and moaned underneath him, a tense, alien sensation brewing near her stomach.

Undertaker changed the angle of his hips and slammed a few more times into her, and she came gloriously, screaming his name. A few moments after, the reaper followed suit and pulled out just in time to come outside her. He then laid down her exhausted figure quite unceremoniously and turned on his side to face her. He fixed the stray hair covering her face, tucking it behind her ear and a smirked pulled up on his face when he realized that she was still quite spent, her breath a ragged sound as her chest heaved up and down.

He stood up from the bed, the lady eyeing her as he wandered around and went out of her sight for a moment, returning with a small towel. He climbed into bed again and wiped his seed off her stomach. He then leaned in and took her lips again, his lips lingering on hers. Undertaker lay down again and wrapped his arms around her body, resting her head against his chest.

"…m'dear?" the reaper, whispered, breaking the silence

"Yes, Undertaker?" the lady asked.

"Please, do re-install your lights come tomorrow morning, okay?"

The lady laughed and fell asleep to the sound of the reaper's sweet cooing in her ear and to the touch of Undertaker's lips constantly brushing against her neck, guiding her into deep slumber.


End file.
